Blood
by Noxid Anamchara
Summary: To hell if he was gonna leave Merle again. No matter how much he didn't want to. Blood was blood. Hinted Caryl.


**Nox: **Some things I allude to in my story The Bad, the Ugly, and the Dixons. Not necessary to read it though. And this isn't great, but I just had to get some feelers out before the next episode where I _know _my Muse will be belting out a new tune. I mean have you seen those previews? My Dixon heart is goin' to squirm will all those angsty feels. So excited! I'd also like to get out a one-shot about Carol's reaction to Daryl's departure from the group. What do you guys think about that?

As always, I love you all.

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead – not mine. But it should be.

**Warning: **Language, Violence, Abuse

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Blood

They could argue til they was blue in the face. They could argue til the darkness came. Til the walkers were nothin' but desiccated corpses, and the world had to start over.

It didn't matter what they said.

He'd already made up his mind. Long before they'd pitched their damn fits. Long before they'd escaped. Long before he'd ever known they would a made it out alive.

It was decided.

Didn't matter if they thought he was a fuckin' psychopath. Didn't matter if they thought he would slit all their throats in the middle of the night. Didn't matter if they thought he was a man come ta destroy the world.

It sure as hell didn't matter to them that he knew how to get them all out a Woodbury _alive_. Didn't matter that he _had_.

No, all that mattered was that his brother were an asshole.

Like he didn't know that.

He could count on his hands an' feet, hell the scars on his back, how many times Merle had been an asshole ta him.

One time Merle had made him eat dog shit just for the fun a it. And when he made him run along the side a his bike, when he were just a kid, hands tied to the back. Merle laughed the whole time.

And when he'd tried ta force a woman on him, no matter how many times he'd said no. He'd called him a pussy over an' over. Tha bitch left afore he pissed hisself in embarrassment, but the damage was done. Merle made a goddamn fool a him.

Daryl _hated_ him for that.

And he questioned Merle's sanity on a fuckin' daily basis. On his worst days, hell even on his good days. Sometimes Merle acted like he'd shot hisself up full a coke, an' most times he did. Actin' like the devil were comin' round ta take his soul. Like the government were watchin' him, gonna be there any minute to 'rrest his ass.

But mostly, Merle always talked bout how he shoulda died, when the ol' man shot him up full a coke so long ago. There were times when Daryl had thought Merle was gonna kill himself, shootin' himself up with so much. Takin' so many pills. The combination a the two. Always made Daryl wanna kill the ol' man, put a fuckin' arrow right through his eye, makin' his brother think like that. Makin' Merle into what he was.

But he also knew how many times Merle had tried ta save him from their ol' man. Saved him from a beatin' that coulda killed him. Saved him from havin' to be the one to take those drugs. Saved him from the ol' man's first faggot test. Merle survived _hell_ fer him.

So yeah, he knew his brother weren't the most likeable person on the fuckin' planet. Hell, most days _he_ didn't like'im. Woulda beat the shit outta him if he could a too.

Merle could beat his ass with one hand tied behind his back though.

An' shit, he knew Merle didn't made the best fuckin' choices neither.

Glenn had a right ta be pissed. Merle shouldn'ta beaten him. Shoulda tried to work somethin' out.

But Merle couldn't trust _nobody_.

Not 'specially after they cuffed his ass to that roof back in Atlanta. Who the fuck would you trust after that shit?

No, he didn't like his brother sometimes, but he wouldn't never leave him. Not never again. No matter what he fuckin' did.

Blood was blood.

And Glenn threw out that shit bout Maggie bein' his family. That was all fine an' well, 'cept Maggie weren't his _blood_. Maggie only came round the better part a the year ago. And now, he was callin' her blood?

Sayin' that Merle _weren't_ blood.

Fuck if that shit didn't piss off him jus' a little. But not enough to rile him up.

He understood. He knew. Knew what ya had to do for family. For blood.

And he knew Maggie was family to Glenn. Knew what they'd become to each other. He couldn't blame them for that, couldn't blame them for hating, for wanting to _kill_ Merle.

And they couldn't take Merle in. Not after what he'd done to Glenn, not after he'd stayed with that motherless prick, the _Governor,_ an' what he'd done to Maggie.

No, he didn't blame them. Hell, if he didn't agree with them.

But Merle had his reasons for shit. Daryl knew that too. Even if they was fucked up. Even if he went about it all the wrong fuckin' ways.

And it didn't matter how much he wanted to stay. How much he was gonna miss the comfort a havin' somebody at his back that wasn't gonna toss a walker at him just for the fuckin' fun a it. He was gonna miss the easy-going complacency he could fall into, when he was surrounded by people he could _trust_.

Didn't matter how much he was gonna miss comin' back to people who'd greet him like they'd missed him, _for real_.

Didn't matter how much his chest _ached_ at the thought a leavin' them all behind.

He was gonna miss teasin' Glenn an' Maggie, findin' them in the most embarrassin' situations.

He was gonna miss patrol rounds with Rick, feelin' like he was needed by someone.

He was gonna miss Carl, and lil ass kicker. Jude. He'd grown attached to them kids. He wanted them to survive, to make it far. They deserved that chance. He wanted to be the one to protect them, to watch them grow. To make sure they never had to experience nothin' like he did.

And he was gonna miss…

"Hey! Darylena!" He turned, crossbow in hand, to Merle who was finishin' up his piss against the tree. "Let's fuckin' go," he called, shakin' his leg, an' zippin' up his pants.

He was gonna miss her. Miss her the most. Miss her calculating stare that always went right through him. Miss the way she could understand his looks, with just a glance. How she knew not to touch him, but was always near enough. Miss the way she took care a the group, without even thinking about it, like it was her job. He'd miss the way she would know, just when he was in a bad fuckin' mood an' he needed to be left alone.

He was gonna miss her constant support, whether he'd wanted it or not.

"Hell you waitin' fer lil brother? Apocalypse is already here," Merle said, chuckling. He started after Merle, head down, thinking about her.

Didn't matter how much he wanted to go back.

Blood was blood. And he'd never leave Merle again.

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